Old Game Gets New Name

It must have been 104 degrees that day in the Wal-Mart parking lot when out of no where, a race breaks out. You know the kind, where one person, usually a super competitive 8 year old starts running and states the rules as he takes a ten step lead. Well Kim is usually the last to the car or where ever and thus she becomes the “rotten egg” I let Dylan win 9 times out of 10, but so long as I’m maintain 2nd, I’m not an over competitive jerk father, or the rotten egg so I’m fine with that. On this occasion however. It was Kim that felt she could get the drop on us and make a mad dash to the car, (again, stating the rules on the way... ‘last one there is a rotten egg!) You get the idea. What makes this story worth writing isn’t that she finally won, she didn’t, or even that she initiated it. It was the fact that while yelling out the rotten egg part, she accidentally said “ROTTEN LEG”! We all stopped and looked at each other for a split second, unanimously deciding that being a rotten leg is way worse than a rotten egg. That being said, IT WAS ON! With images of past CSI episodes dancing in my head I quickly overcame Kim. Dylan on the other hand was a little quicker and way more sneaky. Plus he hates to lose at anything. Kim is fair, too fair for a race of this magnitude and she was looking like a shoe-in to become the dreaded, putrefied, maggot infested appendage that I pictured decomposing in some weeds off of a deserted highway somewhere. I know its a tough image, but its a motivator and that’s what I needed. The humidity was well passed what I find to be acceptable, and if I’m going to make it worse by taking part in an impromptu 50 yard dash, I’ll be damned if I’m also going to be stuck with the rotten leg moniker. All my efforts to beat the kid were in vain, he will stop at nothing to win. I was quicker of mind than of foot and slyly changed the rules to; last one in the car is a rotten leg and since I had the keys and could open only my door, I did and thus saved myself the disgrace of being known in the family as the dreaded leg. Kim was not so lucky.

Speaking of rotten legs, the next day we went to a kid’s rodeo. When I reluctantly agreed to this outing, I was thinking we’d see a lot of mutton-bustin, or some pee-wee version of the barrel race and at the very least, clowns doing what they do best, scaring little kids. When we got there and I saw the type of rigs they used to haul their horses and the distances that some had traveled to get there, I knew I was in for more than I had bargained for. We made it just in time to sit down for some Bronc riding. We planted ourselves on a grassy knoll and our first rider came exploding out of the gate! This was no Shetland pony! It was huge, fast, mad as hell and heading straight for us! The poor kid who was (and happy to say, still is) 14, hung on for dear life. This beast was having none of it though. In a surreal few seconds, I watched as the horse ran straight into the gate in front of us, bowing the metal fence in his effort to dump his rider, and dump his rider he did! That poor kid went flying over the gate and straight onto his head! It was brutal and very disturbing to see. These gates are nearly 7 ft. tall so it was a long fall without going into it from atop a sprinting horse. The kid didn’t move a muscle and I thought the worst and heard Kim inform Dylan that bull/bronc riding was officially added to the long list of things he would not be doing while under our roof. The paramedics arrived quickly and stabilized him. By then, it was clear that he was conscious and in pain but fortunately it wasn’t his neck or back that hurt, it was his leg. Which had apparently been wedged briefly in between the bars as his body flew over. I missed this little detail in all the excitement but was glad it wasn’t worse. They hauled him off to the hospital for x-rays none the less. Hopefully he turns out just fine.
As they hauled him away, the announcer mentioned how tough he was, followed by his time and a “It was all worth it huh buddy? I just sat and shook my head. Welcome to Wisconsin!